


young enough to die

by HaneGaNai (nezstorm)



Series: young enough, old enough, enough [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Major Character Injury, POV First Person, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 12:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10786938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/HaneGaNai
Summary: I always thought that dying is easy.





	young enough to die

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting old works.

I always thought that dying is easy. One of the easiest things ever. You just lie there with your eyes closed as your body grows colder and colder and everything disappears. As if you never existed. No pain, just waiting. It's almost like falling asleep. But as my consciousness was slipping away my eyes struggled to stay open. They didn't want to lose the saddest, most beautiful view they ever saw. If I had enough strength left I'd tell you something among the lines:

'Hey, what are you doing, idiot? Don't be a sissy and stop crying.'

and burst into laughter after punching you in your blood-stained shoulder. But I can only give you a soft smile and weakly squeeze your hand. I wish I could tell you, that it's not your fault. That I'm the bastard who makes you feel like this being unable to protect his sorry ass and getting caught between those enormously big claws. It's me – I screwed up. I don't want you to blame yourself for the rest of your life just because I hadn't been strong enough. Hey, I'm content with the way my life came out. After you showed up it couldn't have been better. So, Pineapple, get a hold of yourself and do something about your hair – it's getting in my eyes while you're leaning to plant a kiss on my ice-cold lips. You're a man, a very strong one. You'll manage.

It's not that bad. I don't feel a thing anymore. Neither the pain of my slaughtered body nor the discomfort of lying in a puddle of my own blood. Even your kiss (well, that's too bad, I really longed to feel that someday). So hey, cheer up Redhead, it's the kind of death I always wished for – while fighting by your side. Just kill him for me, have your revenge, but  _ without _ getting yourself killed and everything will be alright.

I wish I could look at you a bit longer but I can't see a thing. Shapes only but it's becoming only a heap of blurred colours. You know, I love – or rather loved – the redness of your hair. It always reminded me of fire, of life. It suits you so much you lively bastard. So much. And that smug grin of yours. God, it annoyed me so and yet I was always happy to see it.

Do you know, your tears are sweet? No, I think you don't. Or maybe it's only me who thinks they are. But never mind that. I like that taste so allow me to be a bit selfish and have more of them by making you cry even harder.

' I love you, Pineapple.'.

Hey, you should know about these things. About life after death and stuff like that. Tell me, when you'll die, can we meet again? I'll miss our constant fights and the warmth of your smile. And speak a bit louder, because next time I want to hear you answer.


End file.
